


Hazy

by ashesofwren



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 15:16:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13169622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashesofwren/pseuds/ashesofwren
Summary: They're intertwined, really. Where there is Shiro, there is Keith, and where there is Keith, there is Shiro.That's how it's been, and that's how it will be. So it's no surprise that Shiro finds him, even thousands of miles apart.My piece for the Sheith Secret Santa 2017! My recipient was Anon07.





	Hazy

The first thing Shiro thought of was Keith. 

It’s funny, the way the brain works. He supposed it was somewhat of a defense mechanism, keeping his mind off the danger he was in.

Shiro didn't mind. It helped. The darkness of a cell was replaced by light shining around Keith's hair. The emptiness of space became stargazing together on a weekend, hoping Iverson wasn't around. Fighting in the arena became sparring with Keith.

Not infallible, of course. Nothing ever was. But as he laid on the table of Haggar, having a hazy Keith flitting around trying to take care of him was comforting.

Keith ran ahead of him, swinging his leg over the speeder like he'd been doing it his whole life. Shiro trailed behind, a smile creeping at his lips as he watched Keith shuffle impatiently in the seat.

Shiro wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in Keith's fluffy mop. The sun was just beginning to set, and the Garrison officers would start patrolling in about twenty minutes.

Keith blubbered something incoherent, and Shiro's face broke into a wide smile.

"We have to get going, you know," Keith said as he reached up and started fluffing up Shiro's hair.

"I know, I know. Can't I hug my boyfriend, though?"

Keith snorted before prying Shiro's arms off him and grabbing the helmets. One, he tossed to Shiro with the ease of an acrobat. The other, he wedged onto his head and fastened before Shiro could get on the speeder.

Shiro swung his leg over, fastened his helmet, and revved it, blowing up storms of dust into the training yard of the Garrison. He was sure that someone would tell him off come tomorrow - Iverson, probably - but tonight was important -

It grazed his hip, and he snapped back to attention. The sand under his feet shifted, and he broke into a run, blowing up more dust into the air. A thin trail of blood trickled down his leg, and he groaned.

Keith was good with his knife, a good fighter, but he had a bit of a problem with control. He was more likely to injure than hold back in sparring. He would be good, one day. One day. Not today. Today, Shiro would be heading to the infirmary.

He charged forward at Keith - the monster - his friend - Keith - a battle - another prisoner - Keith -

Shiro laid on cold steel. Smooth. He could feel it through the thin rags of the Garrison. No. Galra. He was in Galra hands.

Keith moved around him, hands checking for injuries. Long fingers. Cold. The bright lights of the Garrison shone on him, the curtains between the beds drawn. Keith frowned. 

It was purple. White hair fell like a sheet around a head, withered skin. A shock of purple, black. Electricity coursing through him. Why would Keith do this to him?

He reached out, to grab Keith's arm, to beg him to stop, stop the pain, let him go. 

His hand passed through empty air.

Shiro loved Keith, so very much. He had to tell Keith that, before he went to Kerberos. God, he was excited. He wished Keith could come.

A picnic, maybe. Under the stars. Something romantic, something beautiful. Maybe a campfire. 

Keith was stubborn. Not to say that was his defining feature, but it was one of the reasons Shiro fell for him. He knew what he wanted, what he was doing, how to get it. If the phrase "where there's a will, there's a way" is true, then Keith always had a will.

Shiro had tried to adopt that into his own personality. He was strong, he knew that. Talented, though Keith was far more than him in that field. 

Shiro laid on a cold metal floor against two cold metal walls. The third was not far off, and the last was electric bars. Keith leaned against him, head heavy on Shiro's and legs tucked under his own. A tuft of his hair floated into Shiro's face, and tiny snores drifted up from his mouth.

Shiro's lips quirked up, and he nuzzled into Keith's hair. Light shaded the room, barely any of it but light nonetheless. It was purple, like Keith's eye's. Shiro smiled, deep, and wrapped his arm around Keith. The closer they were, the tighter he held Keith, the better.

"Keith, I love you."

Keith blinked at Shiro, wide eyes that looked through him. Was he surprised, maybe? Keith was a puzzle in and of himself. Oh god, did he not love Shiro back? Maybe this was the wrong time to tell him. He was leaving, after all. God, what an idiot. Shiro was an idiot-

Keith jumped on him and kissed him, knocking him to the floor. It was cold beneath him, but Shiro was too shocked to care. He looked up at Keith, into his eyes. Keith's arms rested around him -

Shiro was pinned against the wall of the arena, the robeast leaning in on him -

"I love you too, idiot," Keith whispered.

Shiro smiled, and he propped himself up on his elbows to kiss Keith -

It tore at him, tore across his torso, his legs, his arms oh god his arms what was it doing to his arm he needed his arm he was fighting he needed his arm this wasn't happening oh god oh god -

Keith kissed back, and Shiro wrapped his left arm around him, bringing Keith closer -

It was blood, blood everywhere, how did a single person have this much blood, he was pretty sure this was deadly loss, his arm -

They laid next to each other, and looked at the stars. The Arizona desert leant itself to stargazing -

Shiro laid back on the table, another figure bent over him. He tested his limbs, and couldn't feel his right arm. God, his arm. What happened? Where was Keith?

Shiro raised his fists again, one metal, and one flesh. It didn't matter what they put him up against. He was going to get back to Keith, whatever it took.

This was his battle, and losing was not an option.


End file.
